‘Oh, that was just a slip of the tongue, Kate. What I’m trying to say is that, noble as your sentiments are, they’re wasted on him.’

‘Flowers has sewn me up nice and tightly, hasn’t he? You all have. You, Flowers, and let’s not forget Kelly, shall we?’

‘Kelly’s daughter was brutally murdered, Kate. Even if he does have Markham taken out, think of the alternative. All the money it would cost to keep him locked up for the rest of his life, because that’s what would happen.

‘You disappoint me, Kate. I always thought you were a sensible woman. You’re putting your career on the line for a piece of filth. If he was put in prison in the morning all he could look forward to is years of abuse from prisoners and staff alike. Years ago he attacked a young girl on a train and beat the frigging crap out of her. His wife gave birth to a dead child over it. We’re not dealing with a blagger here now, Kate, we’re dealing with a sadistic rapist.’

‘That’s just it, though. I know what we’re dealing with, and no matter how you, Flowers, Kelly or bloody King Street Charlie dress it up, it’s still condoning murder!’

Caitlin shook his shaggy head. His hair was sticking up in all directions where he had run his hands through it. ‘Kelly was the one who paid for the blood testing, Kate. It was him who got it okayed. He tried hard to help find the killer.’

‘I know he paid for the blood testing.’ Her voice was bitter. ‘How good of him. Just so he could find out who did it for his own ends!’

‘You still don’t know for certain if he has put a price on the man’s head. Like Flowers said, it’s all conjecture on your part.’

She sneered, ‘Oh, grow up, Kenny, for Christ’s sake. You know as well as I do that Markham’s a dead man. But just to be on the safe side, I’m going to see the Golden Boy myself.’

Kate stood up. Snatching her keys off the table, she stormed from the pub. Caitlin did not attempt to follow her this time. Instead he poured her drink into his glass and cancelled one of the dinners.

He had done his bit. Now it was up to her.

Kelly was like a cat on hot bricks. He had arranged the payment of the fifty thousand dollars, a minuscule amount for what he wanted done. Now all he wanted was confirmation of the hit. Every time the telephone rang he rushed to answer it, a feeling of excitement in his breast.

He couldn’t relax until that piece of scum was dead. His eyes went automatically to Mandy’s photograph. The familiar lump came to his throat.